Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 78534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78534 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
"Chester Ainsley. Tell me why that sounds familiar." It's tickling my brain.
Riot's fist hits the table. "No shit! Cooper!"
She looks confused. "What do you mean?"
Ghost leans back, head cocked to the side in thought. "You're supposed to be dead."
18
JESSICA
Bonnie opens her door and hands me a mug. “Here’s your coffee. Brrr, I don’t know why you’re sitting out here. It’s colder than a witch’s tit.”
“I’ll come back in soon. I just wanted to watch the sunrise.”
She nods. “Suit yourself.”
Steam rises from the top of the mug. I blow on it, watching the swirls drift away. I feel…
Free.
Light.
For the first time in as long as I can remember, I’m not carrying anything alone. Oh, I’m still a hostage, officially anyway. I can’t leave the compound any more than I could leave Victor’s tender care, but it’s not the same. Not at all. I’d been holding onto the burden of my past for so long that I didn’t even understand the full weight anymore.
Even as I hoped to be free, I didn’t dare open my mouth in case I found myself right back where I started. Victor beat rebellion out of me young, and if he was willing to do that to a child, I don’t want to think about what he would do to me if he thought I had to learn my lesson all over again now. His little corrections were bad enough.
Seeing the looks on Riot, Ghost and Tex’s faces as I told them my story healed something inside me. They might be violent, criminal, impulsive, crude, and a hundred other things that make them unfit for Victor’s fancy society, but they were horrified.
And instead of getting me in trouble, confessing has bought me a little more freedom.
The freedom to sit outside when it’s really too cold, and drink coffee made with too much sugar while watching the sun rise over the sliver of ocean I can see from the top step of Bonnie’s apartment.
The sky is a swirl of orange and yellows. It’s beautiful. If I make it out of this, I want a tattoo of exactly this. The sun coming up over the ocean, and promising a brand new start. The guys have inspired me with all their ink.
Is it crazy that I actually like it here? Because of my position—former position—I got to experience some of the luxuries of living with Victor, but I’d happily trade them all for coffee on the stairs and cereal with marshmallows.
Or maybe it’s the company I like.
The dreams I had last night about Tex, Riot, and Ghost were pretty vivid. My subconscious has turned out to be wilder and kinkier than I could've ever imagined.
“Hey!”
I look down at the sound. There's a biker standing at the far corner of the church, trying to get my attention. I don’t recognize him, but that’s not unusual. Aside from my guys, I really only know a half dozen of them on sight. My guys. I grin at the thought. They aren’t actually mine, but it kinda feels like it.
He motions me closer.
I’m only wearing socks, but I take my mug and tiptoe down the steps so we don’t have to yell back and forth. "What?"
"I was sent to get you," he grumbles. "They want to talk to you more about Kane."
“Who? Hellfire? Ghost? Let me go get my shoes.”
“There’s no time. Come on.” He looks annoyed, and I get a bad feeling about this whole situation.
“Let me just go tell Bonnie where I’m going. I don’t want to worry her.”
“Stop being so fucking difficult! I was sent to get you, and I’m going to do that,” he hisses, voice low and pissed off.
"I’m not even wearing shoes!" I hiss back, stepping off the final step and onto the cement paving stones below. "Why are we being so quiet?"
He moves fast, grabbing me before I can run. My coffee mug drops to the ground, shattering and spilling its contents out in a steaming puddle. I try to scream, but he clamps a gloved hand over my mouth and holds me tight as he drags me into one of the deep nooks in the side of the old church where we’ll be out of sight unless someone walks directly in front of us.
"Easy there, ratty,” he whispers into my ear. “Wouldn't want to draw too much attention now would we?" His voice drips acid, and I finally place it. Troy, one of Victor’s men. Just needed him to start calling me names first. "We need to have a little chat."
I struggle, but he's too strong. I try to cry out, but his grip covers my mouth so completely I'm struggling just to breathe. Troy was always one of the guards I avoided at all costs. Most of them were nasty, but just doing their jobs. Troy enjoys being nasty just a little too much.